All Roads Lead to Preston (Sequel to Pocket Rocket)
by cranesandcranesandcranes
Summary: Two years on, Wade and AJ are happily married, long removed from the dramas of the early period of their relationship, but a catastrophic accident threatens to bring it all flooding back. Meanwhile, Sasha and Punk's relationship is no more, but what will it take for Kaitlyn to admit to her true feelings for her friend? And for Alicia to face up to the wrongs of her past?
1. Chapter 1

**Hello all, this is the full-length second instalment of Pocket Rocket. It takes place in July 2015, two years on from the events of Pocket Rocket and seven months on from the Hopes and Fears one-shot. I'll do my best to make it followable for those who haven't read either of the previous stories in the series, but some things are bound to need the context of those two fics. Preston in the title refers to Wade's home town in England, where all the main characters will find themselves on the same weekend for various reasons. Hope you enjoy. The feedback I had for Pocket Rocket was just wonderful and I hope this will be the same. Rest assured you will be thanked very much :)**

"You trite, sappy bastard!" AJ giggled as she looked up from her phone.

"What?" Wade asked, although he had a fairly good idea what she would be referring to. A glance at the screen confirmed his suspicions.

"'Breakfast in bed with my gorgeous wife. No better way to start the day atWWEAJLee #lifeisgood.'" AJ read aloud, then broke into another hectoring giggle. Wade rolled his eyes, though he'd long grown to expect such a reaction to his displays of public affection.

"You know, 99% of women would be over the moon to read that. Why did I have to marry the one woman on Earth who laughs in my face every time I tell the world how I feel about her?" he lamented, although not remotely put out in actuality. The fact AJ wasn't like 99% of women was precisely why he married her in the first place. She loved nothing more than to playfully mock him, so providing her with yet more opportunity to was just about the most romantic thing he could do regardless.

"I_ am_ over the moon. Your reward snog is coming, don't worry. I just want to take the piss out of you a bit more first," she chirped. Her use of British vernacular never ceased to charm and amuse him, and his air of feigned disgruntlement was pierced by an involuntary grin.

"Naturally," he smirked.

"Let's see if you've got the usual stock replies..." she went on, eagerly navigating her way down the page with her index finger.

"...Teenage boy saying something to the effect of_ 'damn you're lucky bro. AJ's a babe'_: Check! Teenage girl saying something to the effect of _'wish i was the 1 wakin up wiv u. So jelly of AJ LOL'_: Check! You're doing well to still get those kind of comments, I thought the receding hairline and the grey bits in your beard would put pay to it..." she braced herself for the inevitable prod in the ribs this would surely induce, and her husband duly obliged.

"...Someone not using their real name or picture saying something I'd feel dirty reading out loud, even to you: Check! Blocking them pre-emptively in case they turn their attentions to me... Geez, I'm gonna have to retweet this now so I don't look like a cold-hearted bitch, aren't I?" she said with a groan, throwing her head back.

"I'll let you add your own snarky comment to it if you like," Wade answered, clutching her fondly at the wrist.

"I was going to do that anyway, blessing from you or not," she shrugged.

"You're a real prick sometimes, you know that?" Wade chortled.

"You know I mean well, Wadey. You know it's the one day in seven we get to do this that makes the other six worthwhile," she said, her features softening. This abrupt sincerity caught him off guard and he reflexively kissed her on the forehead. She said the sweetest things... eventually.

Wade's WWE contract had been allowed to expire back in February. It was a huge blow both to him personally and he and AJ's relationship, but at least the months upon months of being booked as a complete afterthought gave them forewarning that he wasn't long for that world. He now busied himself with a mish-mash of independent dates, guest slots on various wrestling-related media outlets and running his own blog, but most of his time was spent in an empty house waiting, pining, praying that AJ was safe wherever she was, and that becoming accustomed to life without him would not serve to put a spanner in the works of their marriage as it had with so many of their colleagues.

Happily, so far that had proved not at all to be the case. Their time together was so precious, and the time without each other so painful that the whole experience had served to remind them just what a special thing they had. Each time Wade thought he couldn't love her more than he already did, he was proven wrong when she stepped through that front door and back into his realm.

This week carried an added bonus; the WWE had arrived in their back yard for the week, and tonight Raw would emanate from just a handful of miles away at Tampa's Times Forum, meaning AJ and Wade could spend the night in their own bed and make the short trip to the arena together. That was not the only reason tonight would be significant. The show would also see the commencement of a storyline AJ herself had pitched, and to her surprise and jubilation had been green-lighted by the Creative department, almost to the letter of her initial plan.

AJ's passion for her craft had never faded throughout her six years with the company, but the prospect of embarking upon this program had her feeling like it was her first week on the job all over again; extremely nervous and extremely excited. The date she and Wade had agreed for her retirement was now just two years away. She still agreed wholeheartedly with the idea, though she'd initially planned to stick around for literally as long as the company would have her. Her priorities had changed markedly since her early days, and looking after her body and ensuring she could live a long, happy life with this wonderful man had taken precedence.

The prospect still terrified her. WWE had been her home-from-home for the majority of her adult life, how on Earth could she satisfactorily spend her days without it? She had projects in mind; finally writing her own comic book, maybe getting to work on an autobiography, most excitingly of all she and Wade had bandied around the idea of opening their own wrestling school or even a small promotion if money allowed. She just hoped it would be enough to fill the void in her life when it came down to it.

One thing was for certain, she wanted to bow out knowing she'd left the Divas division in rude health. She wanted to help its younger talents break through and achieve the popularity and acclaim needed to take hold of the baton she and her contemporaries were now almost ready to pass on. And that was precisely the purpose of this storyline.

"Mind helping me run through this script a few times, and by a few I mean fifty, before we head to the arena?" AJ asked.

"...You know how it is, if we don't knock this sucker out of the park first time out there's every chance someone in the back will get cold feet and the whole thing'll get shelved or changed beyond recognition."

"Sure," Wade agreed and watched on, his heart thoroughly warmed as she eagerly gathered up the papers from her bedside table, lighting up with glee and clapping her hands together triumphantly as she read over them again.

"You're fucking adorable," he smiled, draping his arm around her and allowing her to snuggle into his side.

"Hence why I get away with being a prick, right?" she replied with a wink.

"...Anyway, I'll give you the copy, keep it away from me and we'll see how much I've remembered. Oh, and you be Alexa."

"Wouldn't it make more sense for me to be Paige? My Norwich accent's a lot better than my... wherever the fuck in this godforsaken country she's from," Wade fired back.

"Paige doesn't speak, she just lurks in the background staring at me... I know, Nacho can be Paige," AJ piped up, pointing in the direction of the tiny dog sat up in his basket at the corner of the room, who pricked up his ears at the sound of his name.

"Right, here goes then..." Wade said, and inhaled ready to deliver his first line.

"No, this won't work..." AJ interjected suddenly.

"...I need to be able to visualise it properly. Tell you what, I'll grab you some eyeliner and some lipstick from my make-up bag. I've still got that blonde wig from Halloween, you can wear that. Now what should we use for breasts? Coconuts would be flattering her, balled up tissues would be doing her a disservice... any ideas?"

"No amount of puppy dog eyes and giggling will get me to agree to that."

* * *

**NOTE: The italic lines of dialogue in this scene are the ones the girls are speaking as a part of the segment they are filming, just to avoid any confusion**

_"Ladies and gentlemen please welcome my guest at this time, Alexa Bliss. Now, Alexa, tonight sees you make you debut on Monday Night Raw..."_

AJ waited pensively in the wings for her cue, her hand clamped tightly around Wade's for luck. The segment would see her mock and belittle the Diva roster's latest addition, Alexa Bliss, a diminutive and absurdly photogenic blonde babyface for whom both management and AJ herself had high hopes. Thus would commence a vendetta carried out against the wide-eyed rookie by the bitter and twisted veteran. All the while, unbeknownst to either of them, Paige watched on in complete thrall at AJ's audacity and tactlessness; the beginning of a story-within-a-story where the Englishwoman desperately tried to gain AJ's favour by emulating her 'crazy' antics.

The final twist would see Alexa give in to AJ's campaign to beat the innocence out of her, joining her in ganging up on the hapless Paige, completing a double turn and, AJ hoped, leaving both young talents with the requisite momentum and overness to firmly establish themselves. She'd discussed it at length with both of them and was certain they had the ability and vision to pull it off, she just hoped she didn't let them down.

_"...You'll be facing Naomi in just a matter of moments. How are you feeling going into your first match?"_ Renee went on.

_"Renee, I am SO excited. This has been my dream for so long, I can't believe I..."_ Alexa began to babble.

AJ exhaled heavily, counted to three and stepped into view, announcing her arrival with a loud wretching noise.

_"Sorry to interrupt debutpromo . exe, but I thought it was time someone gave you a reality check on what it's REALLY like to be a woman around here. Renee can't tell you, she's not a real Diva, her job involves nothing more than gormlessly pointing a microphone at people and wearing unflattering dresses,"_ the Canadian broadcaster scowled, fixed to retort, then thought better of it and made her exit. Executed like a pro, as was always the case with Renee.

_"You see, Alexa, I was once like you; bouncy, bubbly, just happy to be on the team, willing to learn what it took to be 'smart, sexy and powerful' and all that corporate nonsense but you know what? Playing their games got me nowhere. Trying to be nice got me screwed over time and time and time again. So what did I do? I took control, I played by my own rules, I stopped caring what people thought of me, and look at me now: A three-time Divas champion, five-time Slammy award winner, a former General Manager of Raw, my place in the Hall of Fame all-but-guaranteed, a LIVING LEGEND. And..."_

_"I'm sorry are you still talking?"_ Alexa interjected disinterestedly.

_"...How did you win all those titles, by boring everyone into submission? Tonight is where I begin writing MY chapter in WWE history and has-beens... shouldn't be giving advice to gonna-be's."_

At this AJ made with the crazy; eyes burning and twitching with indignation, shoulders tensing, mouth scowling.

_"I've carried this division on my back for nearly half a decade, I'm the reason a five-foot, hundred-pound girl like you can even get INTO this business. You LISTEN to me when I speak to you!"_ she raged, her voice slipping into her trademark crack-laden bellow.

_"Um... got a match to get to, and you're in the way,"_ Alexa murmured, pushing AJ casually aside and walking out of the interview area. After initially looking as if she would hold her nerve and walk the other way, AJ darted up behind the rookie and blindsided her with Renee's discarded microphone, a bump Alexa took exceptionally well; AJ made a mental note to congratulate her as soon as they were done. She then went to hurl Alexa back first into the metal-frame structure that made up the set, only for her foe to put on the brakes at the last minute, sending AJ careering back-first into the steel, which she did with her usual gusto.

However, as she made contact with the cold, hard frame, it became clear she had been extremely over-zealous, and misjudged her positioning somewhat. Where she expected there to be thin air lay in fact one of the retaining bars of the structure. The back of her neck thundered straight into it, the force causing her to flop down onto her front. Instantly she knew something was amiss, but fortunately all the final seconds of the scene required her to do were to glower in Alexa's wake from the floor and she was done for the night.

When the director finally yelled 'cut', instead of revelling in the satisfaction of a job well done, AJ instead found herself frantically trying to summon the will to get to her feet.

"God, are you OK, April?" Alexa crouched down beside her, and it was at this point AJ realised her vision was extremely unfocused and her hearing muffled and tunnel-like. It was a sensation she'd experienced countless times before in the ring, but on a crowded corridor with so many people milling around her it was ten times as disorienting. She knew it would clear eventually but the seconds or minutes until it did would be uncomfortable to say the least.

"You didn't need to hit it so hard..." Alexa continued with a nervous laugh.

"...I didn't stop too early, did I?"

"No... no, you were great, really great," AJ managed to slur. Even in her haze the imperative to assure the girl she was in no way to blame was foremost in her thinking.

"Need a hand getting up?" a male voice, presumably one of the camera crew, offered. Still unable to clearly view her surroundings, AJ held out her own hand in the general direction of the voice, hoping he would do the rest.

As she pushed to her feet and attempted to bring her neck onto an even keel it hit her. A vicious stabbing, ungodly rush of pain, the like of which she'd never experienced, even with the myriad of issues she'd had with this part of her body since Alicia's frenzied assault on her two years ago. What the hell was happening? Surely it couldn't have been broken, but something had to be severely, disastrous awry to instigate this agony, this unrelenting onslaught of anguish so overpowering that she had now had no awareness of what was around her whatsoever; whether she was still standing or had fallen back down, whether she was screaming aloud or just inside her head.

Then, darkness.

* * *

AJ awoke to an odd numbness where the pain once had been. She realised she was gathered tightly someone's arms; the voice was indistinct, her vision was not yet focused, only the smell of his aftershave gave it away. Thank God Wade was there, it prevented her from launching into instant panic. If this had to happen, she was glad it happened on an occasion when he could be at her side instantly. If indeed this was instantly. She had no idea how long she'd been out for, or where exactly they were, and only now was she compos mentis enough to wonder.

"Stuart..." she breathed faintly after about a minute of trying to do so.

"I'm here, sweetheart, I've got you," he responded softly, pulling her tighter against him. There was no safer, warmer place on Earth than in his embrace. His voice, combined with the gentle stroking of her hair and the lingering kiss he placed at the corner of her eye, left her improbably calm in spite of it all.

"What the hell happened?" she asked, her focus finally coming to the rest on his face. He looked like he'd seen a ghost.

"Trapped nerve. Dr Sampson sorted it," he said solemnly. Why was he being so short and morose? She'd had several trapped nerve incidents since her neck breakage. They were no fun and meant a few days of taking it easy but they were infinitely preferable to anything more severe that required longer on the sidelines.

"Oh, thank fuck for that..." she breathed. All of a sudden she felt his body begin to shake. He turned away from her, as if he couldn't bare to look.

"...What's up? I'll be fine. This has happened plenty of times before, I'll just spend the rest of the week off the road and I'll be good. We might have to reshuffle the storyline a little, but..."

"It's happened _too_ many times before," he interrupted, his voice heavy and trembling.

"What do you mean too many?" she asked, although she had a fair idea why.

"...Listen, it's only another two years, I'm taking it easier in the ring these days anyway. I'll be fine, Stuart, I promise. I know what I'm doing."

"It's not me who said that, it's..." Wade gave the almightiest of sighs.

"...It was the doctor. You can't keep putting your neck through impacts like that or the damage could... it could be permanent... it could even _kill_ you, April. The doc said, Stephanie and Hunter agreed and so do I... that you can't go out there and work anymore. A third surgery would be no real improvement, it could even make it worse. I'm so sorry you had to find out like this. It's over, poppet. It has to be."


	2. Chapter 2

**This chapter is a little scene-setter for where things stand between Sasha and Kaitlyn using a POV from each of them. Thanks very much to everyone who has already favourited, followed and reviewed :)**

**Sasha**

Very few people can pinpoint the exact moment their life reached its peak but for me it's easy. September 21st 2014, Night of Champions. I wrestled my best friend in the best and lengthiest match of my WWE career and became Divas champion. Five years of going at it hard and it all paid off in the most perfect way imaginable. The match itself was great, but what topped it all off was going through the curtain, and the first thing I saw being him throwing his arms around me and placing a big fat kiss on my lips. I was the Divas champion and CM Punk was my boyfriend. To say I'd exceeded the expectations I had for my career back when I was touring the dive bars and school gyms of New England was an understatement.

To think I used to look back and laugh at the girl I used to be back in those early days. Scared, withdrawn, unable to stand up for herself or know who to trust and what moves to make in the madhouse I'd voluntarily imprisoned myself in. I felt a million miles away from her; smarter, sexier, might as well throw in more powerful to complete the set. Little did I realise, there was one reason and one reason only I wasn't still that girl, and now that reason has gone. The smoke has cleared, the mirrors are smashed and I'm left standing here; older but no wiser.

The foundations on which my confidence was built have crumbled. The answer to my questions, the man who had me ending damn near every day with the biggest smile on my face, never quite believing my luck, never quite sure why somebody of his all-round magnificence would choose a girl like me over his wealth of other options. That's not to say I saw this coming, any doubt I ever had was always eased by his words (because God that man could charm his way out of anything) and with the time he made for me in spite of being just about the most in-demand person in wrestling.

I was CM Punk's girlfriend for two years. Me. I should have known I'd wake up from that dream eventually. I should have known he'd realise he could do better. Someone who didn't cling to him like a sloth to a tree-branch, who didn't need to be taught what to do, virtually from scratch, in basically every romantic scenario, bedroom included. Someone who felt like his lover and not his ward. More experienced, more adventurous, more exotic, more uninhibited... in other words every girl he'd had before me and every one he'll go on to have after.

'You're just his latest muse. He doesn't do commitment. No one's eye wanders more than his.' I didn't want to believe it. Yeah, he'd had his fair share of conquests, but... but nothing, I was a complete and utter fool to think I was any different, that this time he'd finally settle down. I suppose the fact he needed to go to so much effort to accommodate me and put me at ease convinced me it was more than just a fling. But then, from what he'd told me about the others that had always been the way, he'd always planned to be in for the long haul, but his heart was a restless thing. We went on our first official date only a month after he'd told AJ he loved her, after all.

AJ. She wasn't just the blueprint for my career. I hoped more than anything that some day I would have with Phil what she had with Wade. All I could think and say during that wedding was 'some day that's gonna be us.' I could tell it made him uncomfortable. I put that down to nervousness or just being playful but in hindsight perhaps it was yet another clue. It would have meant the fucking world to me if he'd proposed, I guess you can blame my Christian upbringing for that. He'd never got down on one knee for the other girls, it would have been a definitive sign that I was something special. But it never came; no ring, no house together. 'No point building a nest when you never stop flying,' he'd said. It was always something we'd do when it was all over, though neither of us knew when that would be.

For me it proved to be May this year, at least as far as WWE was concerned, by which time me and Phil had been over for around a month. Nonetheless, Phil came to me and offered to fight my corner, insisted that he held enough sway by now to grab Vince by the loose skin of his neck and get me rehired. But my pride wouldn't let him do that. I got here on my own and if they didn't see a future for me, so be it. My happiness depended upon both that company and that man wanting me, and all of a sudden neither of them did.

At least there's still Celeste. She took me in, took me away from that apartment and all the memories of my life with Phil that it held. She may have quite literally saved my life in doing so. Sharing a house with my best friend, it should be a dream come true, but instead I'm now extremely guilty as well as miserable. She's doing everything she can to get me back on my feet; she drags me to the gym every morning, whenever I need to talk she stops whatever she's doing and she's right there, but none of it's working. It's not her fault at all, it's all mine. I've engineered my brain so that my self-worth hinges on one person's approval, and he's made it perfectly, permanently clear I'm not good enough for him. Well, he used kinder words than that, but that's essentially what it amounts to, isn't it?

He said he couldn't give me what I deserved anymore. Well, this is what I deserve, for latching onto a stronger person and expecting them to compensate for my flaws; my shyness, my prudishness, my naivety, rather than learning how to grow the fuck up on my own. And now it's happened, I'm a frightened little girl trapped in the body of a 23-year-old woman and no one's gonna hold my hand, not in the way he did. I didn't plan for this at all. Didn't plan for the inevitable. You fucking idiot, Mercedes.

* * *

**Kaitlyn**

Just as I feared, the feeling never went away. It got stronger. And stronger and stronger until it became my first thought every morning and my last thought every night. Am I any closer to being able to tell her how I feel? Hell no. And yet I chose to torture myself by living under the same roof as her. I lie in bed longing for the touch of someone who's just a wall away. I have to keep my jaw from hitting the floor every time I see her in a state of undress. And perhaps worst of all, I have to put up with her aching, mourning, crucifying herself for letting him go.

She sits there staring into space, mentally lynching herself for not being 'good' enough for him. On a bad day she'll cry at so much as a couple kissing on television. I try to keep her going. I try to comfort her, but I know the only thing that could pull her out of this rut is the thing that still terrifies me. How on Earth would I be able to convince her it's a good idea? How on Earth could we stay in each other's lives after she inevitably rejected me? And I can't talk to anyone about it. Not April, not my family, no one.

I got the boot from WWE a month before she did. Fortunately, as soon as my 90 days were up, TNA came calling. Fast-forward to now and I'm a regular on Impact under my real first name, I'm just about to start my first title programme, things are going great. But I'd throw all of it away in an instant if I meant I could be with Mercedes somehow.

No one has any less cause for self-doubt than her. She's sweet, kind, smart, talented and way prettier than she realises. But telling her that does nothing. If Punk doesn't think so then it doesn't matter. And she 'can't look after herself', she's 'weak and naive', well with me that won't matter. I'd do anything for her, I'd protect her with my life. She wouldn't be a burden to me. That's who I am, I provide for the people I love, something that bastard evidently could not do.

No, that's unfair, I shouldn't blame him. I just wish she hadn't come to define herself by him the way she has. At least if she was happy I'd feel a little less mad at myself for not being able to come clean. There's two sides to it though. I want her to recover, I want her to get back wrestling, and not just because I miss seeing her in spandex. She's still only 23, she's only just begun, she has bags of ability and a whole decade or more to get even better. But then, when she's back on her feet, how long til another man comes on the scene? How do I deal with that? What if I end up destroying her second shot at happiness?

Sometimes when we stay up watching TV she falls asleep on me. She manages to be even more beautiful when she's sleeping. For those few minutes I can pretend she's mine. I can imagine she'll wake up any minute, look at me with those gorgeous brown eyes and tell me she loves me. Those fantasies keep me going. But fantasies are all they'll ever be. Why, Celeste? Why did you do this to yourself?


	3. Chapter 3

**Got struck by a bout of writer's block but now I'm back with a third chapter, with hopefully a fourth soon to follow. Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, followed and favourited the first two**

"I'm sorry, Nacho, we've got to go back..." AJ said softly, choking back the tears that had sprung from nowhere yet again as her regrets and sentimentality overwhelmed her and she slumped on the park bench.

"...we'll start doing longer walks again soon, I promise."

Her little chihuahua placed his front paws on her lap and looked up mournfully at her, beginning to whine slightly.

"Don't worry, little fella, you're not the reason I'm sad... even if you have just gotten mud on my dress" she smiled sympathetically, tickling the tiny animal behind his ears. They'd been through a lot together in the last six years. Apart from WWE he'd been the one constant of her time in Florida, and now the only one that remained. She still walked him every morning, but since the grave news of a fortnight ago she rarely lasted more than 15 minutes before the urge to retreat bit hard, before she needed the love of the other man in her life to keep her day on something approaching the right track.

The idea that of depending on someone else's support to get her through tough times used to mortify her. It seemed foolhardy, nothing was forever and some day she was bound to face strife without having said person to rely on. Of course she valued the reinforcement her friends and family had provided throughout her life, but she endeavoured to make sure it was never conditional to her survival.

Then came Wade. Somehow, leaning on him in times of trouble felt like the most natural thing in the world; and something she would gladly, unfailingly provide for him in return if roles were reversed, and had done so on countless occasions. They looked after each other and they always would, above all else.

Perhaps she was taking a rather rose-tinted look back at the episode, but she felt it had been the case ever since that day in Cleveland two years ago, when he came and held her after her fight with Dolph, finally proving her hunch that there could be something special between them to be correct. She'd instantly felt so safe and justified in his arms, none of the usual sense of imposition or worry that he would tire of her panic-prone ways. She still remembered the words he whispered softly in her ear that afternoon:_ 'Remember, whether this whole dating thing works out or not; if anyone here is giving you trouble, you can always come to me. I'll listen... I can protect you.'_

The notion of being protected had never appealed to her; it made her feel like some pampered concubine or trophy wife, everything she tried not to be. But coming from his mouth, with all the concern and affection his voice carried, she realised that protected didn't equal subservient, and the kind of protection Wade wanted to give her was just what she'd been missing. It was a basic human need and not at all a weakness.

To think she could easily have never come to know what lay behind the surly, aloof, abrasive exterior that he presented to 90% of the people he dealt with. They didn't see the kindness, the consideration and the adoration he lavished her with. Only she could touch his heart deeply enough as to bring out that side of him, the side that had lay dormant for thirty-plus years until she awakened it. Whenever she stopped to dwell upon it she was overcome with a sense of privilege and gratitude, and only hoped she gave just as much comfort and joy to him as he did to her.

Likewise, most people only knew her as this perpetually sunny, bouncy, bubbly little thing that was always glad to help. They didn't know how she could drive herself to absurd degrees of worry and fear, and if they did they'd probably run a mile. None of her previous boyfriends really knew quite how to approach it when such a mood took her. They always seemed to be trying to shut her up and avoid a scene than genuinely trying to put her at ease and get to the root of her disquiet. And she'd just accepted it, thought it the best that she could hope for. Thank God she gave Wade the chance to prove her wrong.

His entire conduct towards her had been something she had always been denied in previous relationships. Much as she wished her bashful, prudish public persona was a mere front, she'd never been a fan of anything rough and wild when it came to physical intimacy, especially in the bedroom. Aggression and force belonged in the wrestling ring. She needed to feel the love and tenderness that underpinned the lust else it became just a perfunctory, primal act. Again, her fear of not finding anyone else had caused her to acquiesce to some rather more vigorous and adventurous ideas with the previous men in her life, but Wade respected her desire to keep things slow, deliberate and gentle. And he was very, very good at it.

This ruminating on her husband's great qualities had gone on way too long. She needed to be experiencing them. She scooped Nacho up abruptly, causing him to emit a surprised yap, and bounded off back in the direction of the house.

* * *

Wade lay back on the floor, heart hammering, breathing deep and forceful, red mist slowly ascending. He didn't feel relieved or cleansed, however. This just wasn't doing it anymore.

Throughout his life the prospect of his loved ones coming to harm or worse being taken from him for good had been a source of acute fear for him. That fear almost always made its presence felt in the form of acute anger and aggression. The arrival of AJ in his life had created a paradox that ate away at him whenever it was brought to light. No one brought out this torrent of protective, empathetic rage more than her. She had made his existence so much more full, enjoyable and meaningful it made an utter mockery of the decade and a half of adulthood he'd sleepwalked through before she came along. She was the purest embodiment of all he considered to be virtuous, respectable and worth cherishing.

And yet people had hurt her. Mentally, physically, repeatedly, without her doing a thing to intentionally harm anyone else. Every time tears filled those gorgeous dark chocolate eyes, every time she gave him that despondent look, every time she tucked right into his chest and he heard the torturous sound of her anguished sobs, inside he boiled with white-hot, murderous fury at whoever had caused it. There was nothing he could do to stop the feeling, all he could do was suppress it, and that was where the paradox came in. No one but AJ could make him feel these emotions so strongly, but never was it more important he reigned them in than in her presence.

The memory of the first time still haunted him; when her heart-rending tale of the web of deceit and manipulation her previous boyfriend, Trent Barreta, had spun around her caused him to all but explode with indignation and loathing toward a man he barely knew. He remembered the moment when the rushing of blood stopped, when he'd expelled all the furore he possibly could and was finally able to fully process his surroundings, and his eyes came to rest on AJ slumped in the corner, all but cowering, an expression of both terror and disappointment etched across her face as she softly, tearfully repeated: _'Please stop. Please stop...'_

That day he vowed, if it were at all possible, to never to let himself be overcome by his demons in her presence ever again. It was the exact opposite of what she needed in such circumstances. And he'd been true to his word with one notable exception; when CM Punk's calculated, taunting revelation of he and AJ's one desperate night together had caused a conflagration that nearly frightened her away from him for good.

Fortunately fate had handed him a second chance, one he'd seized with both hands, but he knew that if he were to do so he would need some other outlet for his rage. When they moved into this house a year and a half ago, one of the couple's first acts of asserting their lifestyle upon their new abode was to convert the summer house that lay at the centre of its large back garden into a small gym. The room was filled with all manner of high-tech equipment, but the one most useful to Wade was the large foam punching bag that hung in the far right corner. Whenever AJ had been brought to sorrow by another's actions, it was his first port of call as soon as he had sufficiently comforted her. Anger had been the fuel that had made him such a successful bare-knuckle fighter, it felt as if there was no more direct conduit for the aggravation he felt inside than his fists. But this time, no one would be hurt. He couldn't believe he didn't think of it sooner.

However, since they'd returned from the arena that night in the knowledge she'd never be stepping into the ring as an active participant ever again, since he'd spent almost the entirety of the following day holding her tightly while she repeatedly fell apart, things had reached a new and terrifying level. 90% of the strife AJ had faced during their time together, and most certainly this latest and greatest catastrophe, could be traced back to the bitter, twisted, psychotic actions of one person: Alicia Fox.

AJ's career lay in ruins, her dream coming to a premature and abrupt end, and the guilty party was nowhere to be found. She could be living a completely new, happy life, while his wife's had been dealt the cruellest of blows all because of her handiwork. All because Alicia singled-out AJ as the scapegoat for her problems. Then, damage done, she'd vanished from their world never to be seen or heard from again. Initially he'd seen that to be a good thing; it had allowed him to, at least in principle, take the stance of pity and bewilderment that AJ, even now, seemed to maintain when contemplating his ex-girlfriend's descent into violent meltdown. The fact AJ could still have the compassion to think that way in spite of the unwarranted woe she'd faced further underscored how unjust it was that she had been beset with such emotional and physical pain.

But now it was all over, now the knock-on effects from Alicia's actions had become so dire, her disappearance became an injustice of the highest magnitude in Wade's mind. The fact that she could escape scot-free from all this ate away at him. Now when he struck the bag with all his might it was Alicia he pictured; her body contorting, warping, splitting, going through all the agony she had put AJ through that fateful night. The fact his mind would even begin to consider such actions horrified and appalled him. He'd never had violent urges toward a woman in his life, and he held any man that did in the fiercest of contempt. The fact that the woman in question was one for which he once, in the dim and distant past, had deep-running affection for made it even worse.

And there was nothing he could do about it. No way he could get even with her. Even if they did come into contact again somehow, enacting these debauched thoughts would not solve things. It would make him utterly loathe himself, just as he did each time his rage finally subsided. He had never felt closer to madness than in this place that his anger had been taking him to in the past fortnight, and he wasn't sure there was any way of stopping himself going back there over and over again.

* * *

AJ pushed the front door open slowly. She hoped she didn't have to wait too long to see him. She was never more impatient than when she was desperate for a cuddle. The blaring of music from just along the hall showed her where to go. There he lay, completely sprawled out across the sofa, eyes closed, feet swaying in a gentle rhythm and letting her know he was not asleep. This was the precise situation where usually she would sneak up, jump on his chest with her entire bodyweight, call him lazy and deliberately identify incorrectly the band he was listening to. But not today. Today she needed to let him know simply and sincerely everything he meant to her. Everything that had swirled around her head as she sat stricken on that park bench moments earlier.

She moved her hand to his shoulder and shook him gently. His eyes opened and he beamed that wonderfully boyish grin.

"Good walk?" he asked casually.

"I just... I don't know what it is... I just can't make myself stay out there anymore. Not when the alternative is coming back here and..." AJ gulped. This was why she rarely went into any great depth about her feelings for him, why she hid it behind irreverence and sarcasm and hoped her kindness, her support and her physical warmth towards him would be enough to show him how much she loved him. It was because she knew once she started she couldn't stop.

"...And being with you because my God, I just... I fucking love you so much. I know I don't say it enough. But I wouldn't get through any of this without you. You're the sweetest, handsomest most genuine man on Earth. I feel so blessed by what we have, and I'm not interested in a life without it. Please don't ever think I don't care. Please don't ever feel I really mean what I say when I'm ripping on you. I can't..."

Her measured, mature manner vanished whenever she bore her soul and she degenerated into a gushing, overwrought teenager. But throughout her clumsy, erratic declaration she'd watched his smile grow wider. And when she could bluster no more he pulled her down onto his lap, giving her the firm, warm embrace she'd been dreaming of the whole way home. Sometimes it was good to just be hugged. And he knew just when those times were.

"I know you care, poppet, of course I do. I am never, ever found wanting on that score..." he said softly in her ear.

"...what got you thinking like this?"

"I just never say it, you know, you're always telling me how much you love me, what a good person I am, how beautiful I am, and all I do in return is... well... take the piss," she knew that British-ism coming from her would make him smile as always.

"It's not about words though, is it?" he asked rhetorically.

"...it's seeing your eyes light up when you roll over and look at me in the morning. It's how you've never gone a day without looking at this..." he pointed to the gold bracelet on her wrist engraved with the date of the miniature golf game where it all began.

"...and grinning your pretty little head off the whole time we've been together. It's how when you came in here I could hear you heart thumping a mile a minute, and now you're practically nodding off in my arms. That's what's important. That's what love is."

"You soppy fuck," she sniped. She was reassured now, she could revert to 'taking the piss.'

"I love you too," he smirked adoringly in response, kissing the top of her head.

He watched as she shifted on top of him, curling herself up into a tight ball on his chest. These were the moments when all the clouds of hatred and anger cleared, when all that mattered was that she was here, she was his, and for the time being, she was happy. But while she was out he'd had an idea and taken receipt of a certain item that would make her even happier.

"Don't you go falling asleep on me, April Mendez-Bennett..." he cautioned playfully.

"...I've got something to show you."

"Huh?" she questioned drowsily.

"Shift up a second," she did as told, rolling off of him and sitting upright on the sofa. He leaned forward and produced a paper jacket containing an unmarked DVD from the coffee table.

"And what's that?" she queried, pleasantly intrigued.

"Notice how I've always been up before you this past week?" he began, grinning smugly.

"...well, I've been making a few calls, pulling a few favours, and this morning the postman delivered to me the fruit of my labour."

"Get to the fucking point, geez!" she snapped with feigned impatience.

"On this disc are 20 matches spanning your whole career. From WSU to Wrestlemania it's all here, each one preceded by a message from your opponent, I even got Stephanie to record a bit for the intro. Let me tell you, I..."

That was all he managed to say before her lips became inextricably glued to his. All the digging, splicing and scrutinising had been worth it for this. The kiss, and the enormous smile that filled her entire face when she finally released him.

"You're almost too good," she sighed in admiration.

"That's not all. I've booked us plane tickets for tomorrow afternoon; thought we'd have a weekend at the cottage. Erika's fine looking after the pets, the cleaner's gonna go round there tomorrow. And when we get back, my dear, all this shit of the last two weeks is in the past. Monday morning we have a brainstorming session for this 'ere wrestling promotion we keep pie-in-the-skying about," he declared.

AJ gave a few disbelieving blinks. The cottage hadn't occurred to her at all as she desperately sought to gain closure on the whole career-ending ordeal. Secluded in the Lancashire countryside near Wade's childhood hometown of Preston, she'd bought it, relying heavily on advice from Wade's parents, as a surprise birthday present. He'd always said how much he missed home, how he missed rural English tranquility, it was perfect. No phone reception, no internet, TV exclusively for video-gaming purposes. Just what they needed when life Stateside got too hectic.

It was only now it had been discussed as a genuine possibility that she realised how much the whole promotion idea excited her. Maybe the spectre of the horrors of the Alicia situation finally could be put to rest. Maybe this really would be the start of something fresh, new and magical. They always said it, but now more than ever they both believed it to be true. All they needed was each other.


	4. Chapter 4

Kaitlyn smiled determinedly to herself. Week after week of wondering what she could do to break Sasha out of her heartbroken stupor and finally the perfect opportunity had presented itself. She'd just received an unexpected phone call from England; a small wrestling organisation named Preston City Wrestling. She was familiar with the promotion; many of her fellow WWE alumni had appeared there over the years and given it a glowing appraisal. AJ and Wade had even checked out one of their shows when visiting the latter's home town the previous summer.

Due to a last minute cancellation, two spots set to be filled by visiting stars from across the pond were vacant in the two-day tournament to crown PCW's first ever Women's champion. Kaitlyn's contract permitted her to accept one-off independent bookings on dates that didn't clash with her TNA schedule subject to approval from Orlando, and Sasha... well, Sasha's schedule was empty to say the least. Since her release, and despite Kaitlyn's best efforts, Sasha had turned down every offer that came her way; wrestling, convention appearances, shoot interviews... She was adamant that she was not 'ready' for any of them. But now it had become clear; left to her own devices, she may never be 'ready' ever again. The longer she shied away from the business she deep down still lived for, the one she still had so much to offer, the harder it would be to come back.

Well, Kaitlyn had had enough. Enough of watching the girl she loved wasting the best years of her life wallowing in a sea of grief and irrelevant hindsight. Sasha used to adore travelling the world with her. She was never more disarmingly cheery and excitable than when setting eyes on a new and exotic location for the first time. Per AJ's description, Preston was far from exotic, but maybe a complete change of scenery would be just what her best friend needed to rediscover the hope and hunger that once drove her. And maybe, just maybe, it would be what Kaitlyn herself needed to finally confess her true feelings. It was unlikely Sasha would just run away in confusion when they were thousands of miles from home after all. But no, she was kidding herself yet again. Even contemplating it at this moment had her breaking out in a cold sweat. No point ruining a perfectly good little holiday, right?

She ventured downstairs to find Sasha sat bolt upright on the sofa, her laptop perched on her thighs. She wasn't looking at the screen however; instead her eyes burnt a hole in the opposite wall. Her mouth hung slightly open, her fingers trembled a little against the sides of the computer. She looked rocked to her core, and sadly, this was far from unusual. In an ideal world, Kaitlyn would ban Sasha from accessing the internet until she pulled herself out of this rut of self-doubt and pessimism; until Sasha could peruse Facebook, Twitter and the like without lamenting others' happiness and ability to move on with their lives while she remained in hibernation, without feeling the world was turning and leaving her far behind. Somehow Kaitlyn knew this wasn't the best time to table her Preston proposal.

"Any particular reason why you're..." Kaitlyn began. Sasha continued looking blankly ahead, but cut her off with a single, trembling word.

"Becky."

"Umm, what?" Kaitlyn asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow, trying her best to seem amused by Sasha's vagueness, but in reality concerned that it signified this wasn't one of her run-of-the-mill ruminations. Something big had happened.

"Becky Lynch," Sasha shifted her gaze back to the computer screen, maintaining the same awed, disbelieving tone. Kaitlyn knew the name; Becky was one of Sasha's contemporaries at NXT, who had recently been called to the main roster to help fill the void left by AJ's enforced retirement. It still explained absolutely nothing as to what had Sasha so rattled, however.

"What about her?" Kaitlyn questioned once again, stiffening in dread and anticipation.

"Becky FUCKING Lynch!" Sasha suddenly bellowed, lifting the laptop up and slamming it back down onto her thighs. Kaitlyn dived onto the sofa beside her, poised to restrain her, hug her, whatever course of action would soon be needed. This was going to be a bad one.

"LOOK!" Sasha snarled, whipping the computer around so the screen faced Kaitlyn. On it was a picture, uploaded by some loathsome dirtsheet-type website or other, of the aforementioned Irish beauty posing rather happily and intimately with one CM Punk, above some hackneyed piece of speculation as to whether this meant love was in the air. 'Punk has been on the market since his relationship with Mercedes Kaestner-Varnado (the former Sasha Banks) ended earlier this year,' read one line. This was hard enough for the poor girl to take without numerous complete strangers spelling it out for her across cyberspace in the coldest and most dismissive terms imaginable. And Sasha was far from able to turn a blind eye to such things, or palm them of as the pathetic, pointless prying this undoubtedly was.

"They've got an arm around each other, they're not having casual sex. They work together, they're probably friends. You know as well as I do that any time you're pictured with anyone of the opposite gender these sad fucks dive on it. I was linked with half the locker room while I was there. I don't know whether that's a compliment or an insult."

"You think I just went on this picture?" Sasha snapped. Kaitlyn shrugged. In her current state of mind, it wouldn't be too surprising. The younger woman pulled the laptop back towards herself and feverishly clicked away before thrusting it back at Kaitlyn.

"There! Look!" Sasha implored aggressively.

Kaitlyn was now looking upon what appeared to be Becky's Twitter account. The evidence therein of a budding relationship was rather irrefutable. Worse still, Punk, famously reluctant to broadcast his love life to the online masses, had been rather overt in his reciprocation, far more so than he ever had been with Sasha.

"Oh, I'm sorry, dear..." Kaitlyn muttered hopelessly as Sasha's tears started once again, followed by her innocent sobs of disillusionment.

"...but it was gonna happen eventually, wasn't it?"

Sasha was in no mood to be rational. She raised her hands to her head, squeezing down around her cranium as if trying to prevent it from exploding.

"_Of course_ it would be Becky. She's got everything he wants. She's a good five years older than me, so he won't feel like he's babysitting her. She's got his quick, quirky sense of humour, half his references won't go over her head. She's independent, outgoing, a better wrestler than me if that counts for anything, and Jesus Christ _look_ at the woman! A woman. Not a little girl. _This_ was why he couldn't commit to me. _This_ was what he was waiting for. Why did I even kid myself I was anything other than a..."

Kaitlyn didn't even think it; it was just the instinctive, reflexive response to Sasha's latest bout of unnecessary self-crucifixion. With a swipe of her muscular arm, she slammed the laptop shut with an almighty thud, causing Sasha to fall silent and snap her head around to stare saucer-eyed at her housemate, whose body pulsated with heavy, agitated breaths.

"We're going to Preston this weekend," Kaitlyn said firmly, almost robotic in her delivery.

"Where? What the hell are you talking about?" Sasha fired back aghast, evidently frustrated that these words appeared to relate in no way whatsoever to the revelation that was causing her so much grief and internal conflict.

"There's a show, in England, this Friday and Saturday. There's two spots, in a women's championship tournament, and you and me, are gonna be there," Kaitlyn relayed forthrightly, in a tone Sasha recognised, respected and almost feared. Though she was generally easy-going, there came occasions when the feisty Texan adopted a voice that indicated her words were an order rather than a suggestion. Well, this was one situation where she was determined not to do as she was told.

"Wrestling? On the other side of the world? Meeting new people, performing in front of a crowd, yeah, you're right Celeste, that's _just_ what I need at the moment," the younger woman spat back sarcastically.

"This is gonna happen over and over again until you finally feel like getting off your ass and doing something and you find you can't anymore. Cos people have forgotten you. Everyone's moved on. You've no excuse; you've nothing of any importance whatsoever on your plate, you're definitely still in shape cos the gym is the one thing I haven't let you give up on. You'll thank me, I guarantee it. You need this"

"DON'T TELL ME WHAT I NEED!" now it was Kaitlyn's turn to double back in shock. She wasn't sure if Sasha had ever shouted at her out of genuine anger before. The smaller woman pounded her little fists down on the sofa and squared right up to her; nostrils flaring, tears streaming. This was going to be tough. And Sasha wasn't done...

"I'm always saying how much I need to grow up, need to stand on my own. How the fuck is that ever going to happen if you're planning my every move for me? I don't ask you to do it, and I don't want you to do it. You think you're so fucking wise, don't you? You don't want me to find my own way out of this. You like controlling me. You can't accept that maybe sometimes you're not right. Maybe sometimes you don't know best. Maybe I don't need advice from someone who's never managed to sustain a relationship for longer than six months in her 28 years on this planet. Could it be that maybe the person that knows what I need most is ME?!"

With that she stalked off up the stairs. Kaityn gave the almightiest of sighs, running her hands up through her brunette locks and silently counting to ten. She was determined not to point out the irony of Sasha expressing her discontent at being treated like a teenager with this most adolescent of strops.

She was also determined not to issue a retort to Sasha's jibes at her, for two reasons: One, she was aware that in an actual, heated argument she would be able to tear the girl to shreds, and Sasha's self-esteem was low enough as it was. Two, the answer she desperately wanted to give was the one she absolutely could not. She'd never made a relationship last because she'd never met the right person until now. And that person was upstairs crying her eyes out through sheer failure to process all the different ideas and emotions her mind was throwing at her. Kaitlyn's proposal may have been the pushed the final domino, but her support was the only thing that could put everything back together.

* * *

Sasha hoped the bed would just swallow her up, or that her tears would drown her. There wasn't a single thought in her head that wasn't upsetting or frightening. The knowledge that Kaitlyn was almost certainly right once again, but that Sasha herself was too proud and too afraid of returning to the land of the living to admit it. The fact that it was the apparent success of Punk's recovery that had tipped her over the edge, and that such a meltdown was in all probability a big part of what drove him away from her. She wasn't asking for it to be easy, just not quite so savagely hard. But this was the way it had to be. This was her life and at this desperate, hysterical moment, she wasn't all that certain it was worth living.

Face buried in the pillow, she didn't see or hear her come in. She just all of a sudden found herself being lifted from the mattress, her face being rested against that sturdy, ample bosom. Why was Kaitlyn still willing to do this? After Sasha had cruelly, spitefully rejected her well-intentioned attempts to get her life back on track? With each gentle hush from Kaitlyn's lips, with each tight squeeze of her arm, common sense began to break down the wall of histrionic despair. Life was every bit worth living when she still had a friend like this.

"I'm sorry," she breathed with a sniff.

"No need, darling, honestly..." Kaitlyn replied. Sasha knew she'd say that.

"...I didn't mean to come across like I was talking down to you. You didn't mean to lash out. It happens."

"It's a good idea, this England thing. It's a really good idea, but..." Sasha removed her face from Kaitlyn's chest. She needed to see those kindly, reassuring eyes of greenish brown. The ones that told her all was not lost. That she wasn't alone in the world.

"...I'm scared, Celeste."

"I know. And that's normal. It doesn't make you weak. But I'll be there too. You'll barely have to leave my side if you don't want to. This is what you were put on this Earth to do, not mope over some greasy-haired middle-aged narcissist. I believe that, and you'll believe it again too as soon as you're out there. So, what do you say?"

Sasha grabbed both Kaitlyn's hands as they knelt on the bed looking at one another. She alternated between looking at Kaitlyn's encouraging expression and taking deep breaths with her eyes closed.

"Let's do it," she said, with a smile so convicted it felt alien after the seemingly never-ending parade of uncertainty and misery that had been the last three months.

"Banks is back?"

"Banks is back."

Kaitlyn lifted the petite Bostonian into her arms, spinning her around and onto her feet at the foot of the bed, causing Sasha to let out a a giggle that sounded more heavenly than ever to Kaitlyn at a time like this. She was so relieved to finally see light at the end of the tunnel where Sasha was concerned, she effortlessly resisted the nagging temptation to plant the mother of all kisses on her and take full advantage of the nearby bed. That angst could wait for another day.

"I've got a good feeling about this, girl. I really have. You're worth twenty of her and forty of him, you just need to remind yourself of that," she grinned.

"A greasy-haired... middle-aged... narcissist? Is that right?" Sasha queried with a cheeky smile.

"Yup. Good one, huh?" Kaitlyn replied with an equally mischievous wink.

"I'll have to remember that," laughed Sasha.

"Right, better go call the promoter back, he won't hold those spots open for long..." Kaitlyn said, suddenly returning to her business voice.

"I love you, Celeste. I really mean that. You're my sister, and I love you," Sasha said. It wasn't the first time she'd said it, and it wasn't the first time Kaitlyn had hurriedly reciprocated then dashed out of the room as quick as she could, knowing she'd be haunted for the rest of the day by those words and the fact it they would never mean what she so desperately wanted or even needed them to mean. So much for an angst-free day.

Sasha dabbed her eyes and nose with a tissue and surveyed herself in the dressing table mirror. Looking back at her was someone she had not seen for a long time. Someone who she thought had died along with Punk's love for her. But no, here she was, alive and well. Without him, in spite of him. She could say it now. How dare he. How dare he cast her aside. How dare he tell her in that condescending, fatherly tone that he couldn't give her everything she wanted. That was a failing of his, not her own. She couldn't let him win.

Couldn't let him and _Becky Lynch_ have all the fun while she moped and poured scorn on herself. She didn't want revenge, she was better than that. She just wanted to have as much fun as he was having. She wanted to move on like he had. And starting this weekend, that was just what she would do. She was an intelligent, attractive, capable young woman, every bit as much as Becky was, or AJ, or anyone else she'd come to feel she paled in comparison to. And she'd show them all.


	5. Chapter 5

"Argh, fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck..." she rolled over and checked the time on her phone. 5AM. No wonder she felt absolutely abysmal. With so much drink and so little sleep she was amazed her brain hadn't gone into meltdown at the prospect of conscious thought and movement. Who or what had drove her from her slumber so early? Her body had blessed her with tremendous self-preservation when it came to sleeping off a night out, rendering her virtually comatose for the time it took for her to wake up with relatively none-the-worse for her indulgence the previous evening. But if anyone or anything interrupted that recovery process, her head made certain to tell her this simply wasn't on.

Suddenly she heard the distant slam of a door, faint but still enough to send another flurry of aches across her cranium. With a groan she rolled in the direction of the noise, and was for the first time reminded that when she settled down to sleep a few hours earlier she'd had company. A financial advisor, if she remembered rightly, or something that made for a similarly dull topic of conversation that she'd quickly manoeuvred away from. He was funny though, and handsome, at least after two bottles of wine. Jean-Philippe, or Jean-Francois, Jean something anyway. At least he'd saved her the embarrassment of getting it wrong. Nonetheless, sneaking off in the small hours; no goodbye, no explanation, no anything, who did that? Even in Paris that was considered impolite.

"Motherfucker," she murmured. He'd been good, way above average in fact. It might have been nice to hook up a few more times, but not if this was the game he played. Her circumstances had forced her to become rather shallow and primal in her approach to men, but she still had some degree of self-respect. She just couldn't let anyone get too close, no matter how much she sometimes wanted to. But then, she knew the alternative.

She stood up and instinctively wandered across the wall-length mirror by the door. At least she'd never have trouble attracting a mate while she still had a body like this. She wished her face was holding up to the same degree. There seemed to be a new line there every time the makeup came off. Though she could hardly expect to look fresh as a daisy at this particular moment, she supposed. Maybe getting old was a good thing, maybe the less recognisable as Alicia Fox she became, the better. She'd never feared the advancing years, just the prospect of spending them alone, but that now seemed her only option. She couldn't imagine trusting anybody new with her secrets. The prospect of telling anyone here that the warm, upbeat, placid woman they knew as Victoria Sanderson was once so consumed with hate and bitterness that she literally did not care who she hurt and how much.

There were times when she felt like cutting the one remaining tie to her previous life that she had. But Gail Kim was more than just a correspondent, an agent in the wrestling field as it were; she was the only person who truly knew her. She was the reason Alicia had been granted a new beginning and the reason she was able to make anything close to peace with her past indiscretions. Even now, Gail's stories of how well Wade, AJ, Punk, Sasha and the others were doing were sometimes all that stopped Alicia collapsing under a mountain of guilt and shame.

She was even more good-natured and kind-hearted now than she had been prior to her breakdown. She made sure of it. She liked Victoria Sanderson, she was a nice girl. But therein lay the problem. This was as much a front as her false niceties to the people she'd come to loathe had been back in those dark days. But the thought of facing them now; it was worth any amount of fronting and denial of her true self to avoid it. How could she possibly expect anything other than furious, vehement rejection of any apology she attempted to give? She'd be reopening old wounds on both sides. It was better if things stayed this way.

A sharp knocking interrupted her contemplation. He was back. He had to be. Who else would be bothering her at this hour? Maybe he'd had an attack of conscience. She'd give him an earful nonetheless. Her collection of French expletives was now quite substantial. Hurriedly throwing her dressing gown on her naked body, she dashed across the apartment, trying to remember what precisely he looked like before she let a complete stranger into her home.

She readied her tirade, pushed down the handle, pulled open the door to reveal not her companion from the previous evening, but a pale, dark-haired woman little older than herself. Black leather boots, black leather trousers, a black crop-top under a black lace overshirt. Alicia froze, mouth agape. This combination of appearance and attire could mean only one person. The most unsettling human being, if indeed she was human, that Alicia had ever encountered. The one that still haunted her dreams, the one that had enabled the twisted fantasies in her head to become horrific reality two years ago. She should have expected it. If anyone was going to find her here, it was going to be Aksana. There was no point asking how, she'd never get a straight answer, and she always figured the truth was something it was best not knowing anyway.

"Oh my, expecting someone else, were we?" Aksana smirked excitedly, and it was only then Alicia realised her mouth was not the only thing that was hanging open. She frantically pulled the gown across her exposed front and tied it at the waist, now embarrassed along with shocked and terrified.

"No need to be so bashful, we shared a locker room together, remember? It's nothing I haven't seen before. I've quite missed that view, actually," Aksana remarked, her smirk remaining firmly in place. Clearly she had become no less discomforting a person to talk to, and no less proud of it, in the two years since their paths last crossed.

"What are you doing here? Why now? What could you possibly want from me?" Alicia questioned frantically. Her moment's hesitation to adjust her gown had allowed Aksana to step across the threshold. There would be no getting rid of her now.

"I was just in town and I thought I'd see how my old friend was doing," Aksana shrugged plainly, taking a seat in the armchair by the window without invitation.

"I'm not your friend. You're half the reason I moved halfway across the world without telling anyone in the first place," Alicia replied rather redundantly.

"Now that's not very nice..." Aksana frowned, with an undoubtedly false tone of offence.

"...After all I did for you... All I can still do for you."

She leaned forward and gave what coming from anyone else Alicia would interpret as a warm, friendly smile. Aksana had both helped and hindered her in equal measure during their conspiring, apparently switching sides whenever 'fate' determined she should do. She wasn't sure whether friendship in the conventional sense existed as a concept in the Lithuanian's mysterious mind.

"There's not a thing you can do for me anymore. Now leave, and don't tell anyone I'm here," Alicia said, her voice shaking way too much to command any authority, betraying the fact she knew her words were futile. Aksana would not be leaving until she had tabled whatever crazed scheme or cryptic advice she had on her mind, and Alicia's secret was only safe with her for as long as Aksana wanted it to be. Aksana leaned back in the chair and cleared her throat.

"You've done very well, Victoria, very well indeed. When we last spoke you had nothing and now; friends, job, romance, this beautiful apartment. You're living the dream. But it's just that, isn't it? A dream, a fantasy. You'll always hurt, you'll always yearn for vindication, until you've heard three particular words from four particular people: 'I forgive you'"

"That's not true. I'm fine. Well, no, I'm not fine, but seriously if I had to face them again it'd finish me. I'm not strong enough."

"Just like AJ's neck isn't strong enough to do what she loves anymore. All dating back to what you did to her..." Aksana muttered gravely, then grinned triumphantly at the expression of horror on Alicia's face that betrayed she had been hitherto unaware of this.

"...Just like Wade, much as he tries, isn't really strong enough to conquer his anger at her treatment and truly be there for her. Just like Sasha isn't strong enough to stand on her own without Punk."

"Well, that one's hardly my fault," Alicia argued plaintively.

"Your actions brought them together, you interfered with fate, and that drove Sasha toward someone blatantly unsuited to her. And now she's living with the consequences."

"It's as much your doing as it is mine!" Alicia protested.

"I didn't tell you to involve her. I didn't give you any of your plans. They were just what you chose to make of my guidance. Aksana knows fate, she knows that playing God only leads to misery for all involved. That's how we got here, and only one person can make it right..."

Aksana leaned over to the sofa where Alicia was sat, gripping the Floridian's bare thigh with an unwarranted vigorousness.

"..._you_, and I know you can do it. There's more room to forgive in their hearts and more courage in yours than you realise."

Aksana reached behind herself and produced two folded up pieces of paper, presumably from the back pocket of her trousers, although Alicia wouldn't have exactly been surprised if she magicked them from thin air. She handed them to her, maintaining her own grip on them and leaning in again.

"Wade, AJ and Sasha will all be a two-hour plane journey away from you this weekend. These are your flight details, and everything you need to find them."

"Would you be meeting me there?" Alicia enquired, noting the booking was for one.

"This is something you must do alone..." Aksana said, her eyes widening with urgency, before her face softened and her grin returned.

"...and besides, I've got prior engagements. I can't let my ultimate frisbee team down!"


	6. Chapter 6

**OK, now we're through the context chapters, from now on the story will take place over the course of five days in Preston, with the date and time noted at the start of each scene. Big thanks to everyone who has read, favourited and followed so far, and particularly to my two loyal reviewers ;)**

**Wednesday July 8th 2015, 11:12pm**

"OK, now we're finally somewhere where we won't offend anybody... what in the fuck is with this accent? It's like Wade turned up to a hundred," Sasha giggled as Kaitlyn shut the hotel room door. They had just checked in, ahead of meeting up with their colleagues for the weekend the following morning.

"I don't know how April does it..." Kaitlyn chortled.

"...Imagine hearing that in bed: 'Cor, that's it love... bloody fantastic!'"

Sasha doubled over in laughter, both at Kaitlyn's shamelessness and her godawful approximation of a Prestonian brogue.

"That's your best friend you're talking about," she squeaked with incredulity.

"Eh, what she doesn't know can't hurt her..." Kaitlyn shrugged mischievously.

"...and as I've said many times before; you can make that _joint_ best friend now."

"Still can't believe I'm an honorary Chickbuster. Surely I should have to pass some sort of initiation test?" Sasha replied, blushing slightly and swelling Kaitlyn's heart to a good three times its regular size in the process.

"Oh, you've more than proven yourself..." Kaitlyn said with a fond smile.

"...All I've ever wanted is a housemate who shares my love of inventing deliberately goofy dance routines to 90s pop songs."

"It's been way too long since we did that..." Sasha grinned, before adding solemnly:

"...it's been way too long since we did anything fun. I'm sorry I've been such a buzzkill recently."

"You have _nothing_ to apologise for my dear..." Kaitlyn began, placing her hands on the younger woman's shoulders and fixing her with a meaningful look.

"...I'm just glad this trip seems to be doing the trick thus far. You've smiled more in the last hour than in the last three months."

"It was a great idea, Celeste," Sasha beamed, raising her arms around Kaitlyn's neck. At moments like this, Kaitlyn's mind couldn't help but get ahead of itself. Their physical interactions had become sources of anguish and regret rather than warmth and comfort since she discovered the true nature of her feelings for Sasha. They just weren't enough anymore.

"You know, I was so preoccupied by the shock of actually feeling good for a change it's only now hit me just how tired I am," Sasha said softly in Kaitlyn's ear.

"Well, we can hit the hay now if you want. What time do we have to be at the venue? 10?" Kaitlyn asked.

"Yeah. Carry me to my bed?" Sasha pleaded, with a smile so sweet Kaitlyn knew she had no way whatsoever of refusing her.

"It's, like, ten feet away."

"Then it should be no trouble at all for you."

"Sometimes I wonder if you're just using me for my strength."

"But that's all part of what makes you awesome. You're so sweet and nice and sensitive... but you're also She-Hulk. You're the friend I can bare my soul to and the friend who'd get me out of trouble in a fight all rolled into one. If I was Shawn Michaels, you'd be Hunter _and_ Kevin Nash."

Kaitlyn gave a hearty laugh. Now it was her turn to blush. With each compliment, each expression of how much she meant to Sasha, the hope that some day her best friend may see her as something more became slightly less remote. S_lightly_. She blotted out this rather bittersweet reflection by easily lifting Sasha's dainty frame over her right shoulder, holding her in place.

"I see myself more as the Nash to your Rey Mysterio," she said with a foreboding smirk.

"What do you mean by..." before Sasha could get the question out, Kaitlyn provided her with the answer, launching her screaming across the room like a lawn dart and safely onto the bed. When she had recovered from the shock, Sasha rolled over and folded her arms, her lips puckering into the very pout Kaitlyn was hoping to draw from her.

"That was _not_ funny!" she sniffed, barely audible beneath Kaitlyn's giggles.

"Right, I'm gonna _have_ to do that at the gym tomorrow and get somebody to take a picture..." Kaitlyn declared as her laughter subsided.

"...Seriously, your face! I know, I'm awful, I'm sorry."

Sasha's smile returned. Kaitlyn was anything but awful. She'd made the light come shining back in on her world in the past week. The fact she'd be happy to be in a strange place, eager to make new acquaintances and renew old ones the following day, and excited beyond belief to set foot in a ring for the first time in over two months was nothing short of a miracle considering how she had been feeling just a few days earlier. Her appetite for the squared circle wasn't all that had been restored, however. Other desires had finally made themselves apparent once again. They would be sharing the card with a lot of very eligible bachelors this weekend. And at least one of them would surely be looking for a little something extra to remember their time in Preston by.

She'd never intentionally seduced anybody in her life. She knew if she told Kaitlyn of her plan she would be mortified: _'This isn't you!' 'You're still not thinking straight.' _Well, she'd had enough of being pigeon-holed as the doe-eyed wallflower. That was the old Mercedes. More often that not, the difference between cute and sexy was all in the talk and the walk. The packaging and not the product. She didn't know where this confidence that she could knock a man stone-cold dead had arisen from, but it was most certainly exhilarating and she would be a fool not to capitalise on it.

Kaitlyn sat on her own bed, pretending to inspect her phone but in reality transfixed by the sight unfolding in the mirror in front of her. It was far from the first time she'd seen Sasha undress in her presence but it was the first in a long while, and her affections and frustrations had increased enormously since then. She simultaneously begged for it to be over and wished it would never end.

No other woman's body did anything for her, but at this moment she was practically quivering with arousal watching Sasha carefully unbutton her blouse to reveal that exquisitely toned, slender midriff, unclasp her bra to free those perky little breasts with her golden-brown hair falling atop them, slowly lower her jeans to leave her pert, round backside covered by nothing but some decidedly skimpy red knickers. Then she leant over to her suitcase, threw on the enormous Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles T-shirt she employed as a nightdress, and the show was over.

"Are you not sleeping?" Sasha asked gently, so innocent and childlike that Kaitlyn instantly felt dirty for having been so discreetly lecherous. The moistness between her legs had her blushing even though she knew there was no way her room-mate could possibly notice it.

"I... w-was gonna stay up and read for a bit, I think," she blustered, hands grabbing fistfuls of her leggings as guilt and nervousness overwhelmed her.

"Alright. Just promise me I won't have to deal with your evil twin in the morning," Sasha grinned. She had always maintained 'Morning Celeste' was an altogether separate, far more violent and hostile entity to the much more amenable woman who emerged after a proper eight-hour rest, or her first cup of coffee of the day.

Kaitlyn laughed weakly and gave a faint 'OK' in response.

"Night, sis!" Sasha beamed.

"Night," came the half-hearted reply. Sasha may have been asleep before the words left her lips, she was soon curled up facing away from Kaitlyn's bed, emitting soft, feminine snores. Kaitlyn knew she would not be joining her in slumber any time soon. She had many tears to cry first. Many agonised laments as to why she had to fall for someone so utterly unattainable. The trip may have been just what Sasha needed to rediscover her lust for life, but Kaitlyn's was shrivelling by the second. Everything she could ever want but would never have lay mere inches away. How on Earth could she go on like this?


	7. Chapter 7

**Finally got the ideas for the next few chapters. Hopefully the updates will come thick and fast now. Thanks everyone for reviewing, favouriting and following :)**

**Thursday July 9th 2015, 4:54pm**

In Wade's mind, the two most beautiful sights that could grace his eyes were the rolling hills of his native Lancashire and his wife's smile. The opportunity to sample both simultaneously was one that he savoured immensely. They'd only made one previous excursion to the cottage, during which AJ's behaviour had both fascinated and charmed him. He'd never stopped to consider just how wildly different their childhood homes were; his split between the semi-rural Preston suburbs and the remote valleys of North Wales, hers spent smack-bang in the middle of one of the world's most densely-populated urban areas, lacking the financial means to escape to greener pastures. She'd gone straight from this to the life of a WWE superstar; an endless blur of flights and freeways, city to city with very little time or inclination to explore what lay in between.

She'd rarely spent any time in the countryside whatsoever, and the English countryside not at all. It warmed his heart immensely seeing her eyes widen with wonder as she discovered for the first time the views he'd almost took for granted during his youth. Her blissful grin barely left her face as he navigated their rental car through the endless winding abyss of country lanes and quaint villages to where their home-from-home lay, at the end of a mile-long dirt track, concealed by thick woodland three miles south of the small town of Clitheroe. Clitheroe had a castle. AJ thought that was just about the coolest thing in the world. She was so disappointed when he informed her that it was not for private sale, whether they could afford it or not. He silently giggled to himself at the memory of her eagerly dragging him to the top of the main turret, attracting bewildered stares from everyone they pushed past, then admonishing him for not saving his marriage proposal for such a location.

"What's that?" AJ asked dreamily, continuing to gaze out of the passenger side window.

"That's Pendle Hill," Wade replied, all too happy to indulge her intense curiosity.

"We're watching the sunset there tonight," she said firmly. It wasn't a question.

"It's quite the climb..." Wade cautioned playfully.

"...especially when you're jet-lagged."

"Piggyback?" she questioned in as sweet a tone as she could muster, batting her eyelashes at him.

"No! We get a good enough view from the back of the cottage," Wade countered.

"By the way, I was wondering..." AJ began.

"...can Celeste and Mercedes stay over tomorrow night? I've been dying to show them this place and it'll cost them a fortune to get a taxi back into town at that time."

Wade rolled his eyes wearily. He wasn't one for house guests.

"What happened to this weekend being about us?" he asked plaintively.

"Well, that kinda went out the window when you chose to abandon me for football on Saturday afternoon," she fired back.

"That's different. I only get to about two games a year, you see your mates all the time," Wade countered.

"Actually, I've seen both of them, my _best friends_, only once since they left WWE. Thanks for noticing. Maybe if you weren't such a fucking loner you'd know how hard that is," AJ replied, now genuinely rather disgruntled.

Wade looked across at her as she sighed heavily with her head bowed. This weekend was meant to be about cheering her up, and here he was bringing her down. This was not the time to be greedy or antisocial in not wanting to share his home or time with his wife, however instinctively that behaviour came to him.

"I'm sorry, poppet..." he conceded softly, placing his left hand on her right knee.

"...of course they can stay."

AJ's smile returned and she placed one of her hands on top of his.

"Thanks. I know it's not your thing. I promise we won't be too girly. We're all varying degrees of tomboy anyway, can't imagine there'll be much discussion of lipgloss or the Kardashians or whatever women are 'supposed' to talk about," she said.

Chuckling fondly, Wade swung the car left down the track. The cottage soon emerged in all its rustic glory. AJ smiled proudly upon setting eyes on it once again. She'd chosen very well indeed.

"To think, I never gave a rat's ass about nature before we got this place..." she remarked as they stepped out into the late afternoon sunshine.

"...speaking of which, rats are just about the only evidence of the natural world to be found in Union City."

"I've always been a big fan of natural beauty," Wade quipped in response, caressing her cheek with the back of his hand. That gentle, loving touch. AJ couldn't but feel helplessly lovestruck whenever she experienced it. Being back in his 'natural habitat' seemed to make him somehow even more handsome, his hair ruffled by the light breeze, the filtered sunshine reflecting through the trees and making his arms look even more chiseled than normal. The look he was giving her with those breathtaking greenish brown eyes, like he could not possibly behold a prettier sight than her face, like there was literally no other place he would rather be. She'd chosen very well indeed.

* * *

Alicia's flight had touched down at Manchester airport an hour before AJ and Wade's. Lord knew how Aksana had found their flight information. Once again it was probably less unsettling to be in the dark on that score. She'd set off for the cottage using the directions Aksana had provided, pulling over near her destination and waiting for them to pass. She'd wondered whether it was inappropriate to confront them with this no sooner had they arrived, but then, when would it be appropriate? The sooner it was out of the way the better. She drove slowly along the track; stomach knotted, hands shaking so profusely she could barely keep the wheel straight. Without even thinking to she peeled off into the woods and came to a stop. Clearly her body wasn't about the let her mind put it through this agony. But she hadn't come all this way to weasel out of it yet again. All she needed was the right moment, but how was she to know when that would be?

Then she had a brainwave. She'd brought as much of her camera equipment with her as her baggage allowance permitted. One never knew when the opportunity for the perfect photograph would arise. It also served as a source of comfort and optimism, that all being well she'd get the main purpose of her visit out of the way and things would go smoothly enough for her to have the time and the inclination to engage in some leisure activities before she left.

She fetched her tripod, camera and telescopic lens attachment from the back of the car, setting it up amidst the greenery where the tree line allowed for a small glimpse of the cottage and its frontage. In all truth she had no idea what she was hoping to see, what she would interpret as a sign that now was the time to make her move, but being aware she was merely stalling didn't mean she was able to stop.

She brought the lens into focus. There they were, stood facing each other outside the front door. They hadn't changed much, but then it had only been two years. AJ was slightly plumper, Wade's hair was beginning to grey somewhat, but essentially they were still the same as the were the day she almost ruined their lives for good. He had his hand at her cheek; Alicia wasn't much of a lip-reader but it was clearly from the besotted expression on AJ's face that whatever her husband was saying was hitting all the right notes in her heart. Those cute, delicate features Alicia had sadistically attempted to smash into smithereens, denying her the right to experience what she was experiencing at this moment. How could she have done such a thing?

AJ closed her eyes; the eyes that had silently begged for Alicia not to hurt her only to be cruelly, indulgently denied. She placed her hands around his neck and leant on her tiptoes to meet him with a tender kiss. The kind of kiss that only came with the deepest of loves and the most intimate knowledge of one another's bodies. Alicia's heart ached with the juxtaposition of relief that her actions hadn't led such a love to die, and fury at herself for endangering it. It was only through sheer fortune that she wasn't a murderer. A murderer. She'd never thought of it that way before but now the word was filling her entire head. She'd wanted to _murder _little AJ Lee; that sweet, harmless girl she was watching amid romantic bliss at this moment. A woman who had never posed her any ill will, who's only crime was to fall in love at a time when Alicia herself had never felt more cheated and alone. She shouldn't have come here. It was arrogant to expect their forgiveness. It was too late. She was a monster.

But what was the alternative? She'd hate herself forever if she didn't at least try. She had to do this. A sudden swell of courage swept over her and she prepared to pack up her camera and head down to the cottage. But then they stopped kissing. And then Wade held her; his enormous frame protectively enveloping AJ's little body that Alicia had savagely beat and broken with permanent consequences. AJ's eyes remained closed, a soft smile of security and contentment on her lips. Wade's face however, told a completely different story; one of hurt, worry and determination.

Maybe she was projecting, but Alicia could almost feel him reliving that day he nearly lost her, and the various other traumatic episodes that had preceded and followed it. He looked like he never wanted to let her go, that this was the only way he could know for certain nothing or no one would hurt her. AJ wasn't the only one Alicia had scarred for life. They may still have had each other, but thanks to Alicia's actions, AJ and Wade's relationship would always have a permanent air of fear and angst. And she expected to walk into this scene and be treated with anything other than hatred and disgust? It wasn't going to happen.

Then through the almighty guilt crept another feeling. She'd never been held like that. Her safety and love had never been the fuel that powered any man's life. Here she was at 29 years of age and Wade, for whom she now felt nothing apart from remorse, and who no doubt loathed her with a passion, was still the closest she had come. The events of two years ago aside, had AJ really lived that much more of a good life than her that she was rewarded with this and Alicia had still never even come close? Was she really so special?

Then another horrifying thought of realisation struck her. _This_ was how it had happened. This exact train of thought, this exact sense of jealousy and injustice, left to fester over a prolonged period and stoked up repeatedly by the likes of Aksana, was what had driven her to such psychotic actions. She still had it in her to think in such a detached and maladjusted way. Only self-control and knowledge from experience of just how far off the deep end she could go was stopping the monster from reawakening. It still lived inside her.

She all but threw the camera into the boot of the car, caring little whether it stayed in one piece, slammed the door, reversed wildly out of the clearing and sped back towards the road, tears streaming down her face. It didn't matter what she did; this guilt, this anguish, this loneliness, it would all follow her to the grave.

* * *

**Thursday July 9th 2015, 9:25pm**

"We are looking _way_ too good for social media to not know about it," Sasha chirped merrily as she examined her and Kaitlyn's reflections in the hotel room mirror. They were just about to leave for the welcome party for the weekend's wrestling event, held at the club where the shows would be taking place over the next two days. Sasha had spared no effort in her appearance. Looking 'diva' felt rather alien to her after the past couple of months, and actually being satisfied with her reflection was something of an ego trip after what felt like an eternity of self-doubt. But all being well, the trip had only just begun.

"You're actually Tweeting?" Kaitlyn questioned in pleasant surprise.

"Now I'm finally doing something worth Tweeting about; yes!" Sasha enthusiastically replied.

"Now get in!"

Sasha pulled Kaitlyn by the arm into the range of her phone camera, striking a sassy pose with her arm around her housemate's waist as she took the picture. Kaitlyn could not have smiled wider. This was the cheeky, cheerful girl she had fallen in love with back with a vengeance. Tonight they were going to have as great a time as the promoter-enforced three-drink maximum would allow. She'd reigned in the thoughts that had been torturing the night before and was simply anticipating a night of unadulterated fun with her favourite person in the world. She was content to play the best friend for tonight at least. Even if Sasha did look positively delicious in that little red dress of hers.

"Dayum, we lookin' fly! Jaws gon' be hittin' floors when we roll up in dat spot," Sasha enthused as she examined the photo. Kaitlyn gave a giggle of familiarity. She knew Sasha was in a good mood when she started breaking out in ebonics.

"At you, maybe. I look like a fucking nun!" Kaitlyn smirked, pulling at the long hem of her dark blue garment. She hadn't known about the party before arriving and had only packed one outfit that could be considered 'smart', a long-sleeved dress that was more church than club.

Sasha was glad Kaitlyn had been rather conservative in her choice of attire. With brash confidence (which increased many-fold when alcohol was added to the mix) and her ample curves, the older woman usually attracted the lions' share of male attention when they were out. This never used to bother Sasha when she had a man waiting for her at home, but now she was, for the first time in her life, on the prowl, and could do with as little competition as possible. She had a point to prove. Punk wouldn't think twice before embarking on an unashamed conquest. Half his relationships were flings and one-night-stands that got out of hand, maybe including this latest thing with Becky. She couldn't let him have all the fun. She was nervous, of course, and a part of her was asking what the hell her principles had gone all of a sudden, but she was adamant: She wouldn't be waking up in this room tomorrow.


	8. Chapter 8

**Thursday July 9th 2015, 10:17pm**

"Pathetic," Kaitlyn sighed, rolling her eyes.

"What? They were just extending a welcome," Sasha countered.

"I don't think the welcome was the only thing that was extending," Kaitlyn smirked wryly.

Their evening was now half an hour old, they'd made the rounds and introduced themselves to the promoters and the girls with whom they would be sharing the ring over the next couple of days. All of a sudden, two sharply-dressed young men had sauntered over and offered each of them a drink. Jesse White and Matt Polinsky had worked alongside Sasha during her time in NXT, under the names Jake Carter and Corey Graves respectively, and were now making waves on the independent scene as a tag team. While Sasha maintained that the pair were merely renewing old acquaintances, Kaitlyn instantly suspected an ulterior motive.

"You could see the cogs turning in their testosterone-addled minds: _'Dude, there's two of us, and there's two of them. We're so in there. We're wearing Diesel and pop-collar shirts and we're buying them drinks. How could they resist?'_" Kaitlyn continued to joke, breaking into her best frat boy impersonation.

"Oh, stop it!" Sasha chided gently.

"They're really nice guys, seriously. And anyway, if they are trying to get something cooking, why's that such a bad thing?"

Instantly the alarm bells began to sound in Kaitlyn's head. The one form of torture she thought she'd thus far been safe from when it came to her unspoken longing for Sasha was seeing her with someone else. She always comforted herself with the knowledge that if Sasha were to move on from Punk, she would do so gradually and carefully and that would give Kaitlyn time to adjust and accept, though whether that would be possible when it came down to it remained to be seen.

Shy, awkward and principled when it came to men, Sasha seemed like just about the last person who would indulge in a fling or a one night stand, in fact Kaitlyn was positive the prospect somewhat frightened the younger woman. Yet there she was exchanging a knowing wink with Matt from across the room.

"Mercedes!" she scolded with unwarranted vigorousness, borne out of the fear of where the night may now lead.

"What?" Sasha snapped defensively.

"We were in developmental together for a year. Sure, we didn't really hang out, but it's not like we're complete strangers or anything. _You_ could do a lot worse than Jesse too, by the way. He was definitely giving you once-over."

"That's not gonna happen," Kaitlyn said flatly with a grimace.

"Come on!" Sasha implored playfully.

"When did you last get laid? Not yet this calendar year unless there's something you've been keeping from me."

"I'm 28, I don't 'get laid' anymore!" retorted Kaitlyn indignantly, once again going way overboard in her protests due to the deeper concerns that lay behind them.

"I'm playing the long game now. My days of 'one and done' are over."

"Ugh, I wish I knew you back when you were interesting," Sasha quipped with a taunting grin. Kaitlyn knew her housemate would bring up her somewhat promiscuous younger years prior to joining WWE as evidence that she was being rather hypocritical. This was the problem with arguing against someone with whom she had shared every little detail of her life.

"There's nothing 'interesting' about sleeping around. And the world would be a much better place if so many people didn't think there was. If I could go back to those days and be more sensible then I would," she stated piously.

"Well so much for us letting loose and having a good time..." Sasha sighed theatrically, rolling her eyes. Kaitlyn shook her head.

"...now, where's that lovely young gentleman with my shot?"

Kaitlyn bristled once again at the sound of the final word. Who was this woman and what had she done with her sweet, reserved best friend who was usually done for the night after one bottle of coolers?

"You're having a shot?!"

"Yeah, what about it? Three-drink maximum, right? This is my first drink," Sasha shrugged nonchalantly.

"I think ideally they'd rather us avoid spirits completely. Especially someone like you who has no experience with anything that strong," Kaitlyn cautioned in her most motherly voice.

"Wait a second, is Celeste Bonin warning me against drinking heavily? Whenever we've been out in a mixed group you've drunk every man there under the table," replied Sasha with a fond smile.

"The difference is I've built up a tolerance over the last decade. Not to mention I'm not stick-thin like yourself. I've got thirty pounds' extra meat on my bones to absorb it all," Kaitlyn said.

"So you're saying I need some meat in me? That's more like it!" Sasha replied amid stifled giggles which she finally released once she got the words out. Kaitlyn felt like doing anything but laughing. If Sasha's plans came to fruition, she wouldn't be responsible for whatever happened next.

* * *

**Thursday July 9th 2015, 11:48pm**

Kaitlyn gripped her beer bottle like a vice as she returned from the bar; the only subtle and socially-acceptable way she could channel the tension and the rising anger she was feeling. She scanned across the room frantically. Sasha and Matt were nowhere to be found. She'd spent the entire evening watching them get closer and closer, her confidence that Sasha would not be able to go through with her plan gradually eroding. Thanks to Kaitlyn's rather pointed objection to Sasha's suggestion earlier, the younger woman was well aware of her housemate's attempts to obstruct the course of lust. Had they really snuck away the second she turned her back? She wouldn't put it past them.

"I knew you weren't the coctail type. Nothing hotter than a chick who drinks beer," Kaitlyn rolled her eyes. Jesse had not taken her hints. She'd humoured him to begin with; his father Leon, better known to the wrestling world as Vader, had been a childhood favourite of hers, so that provided a pleasant ice-breaker. However, the second he'd started to put the rather obvious moves on her, and she'd observed Matt beginning to make the same advances toward Sasha, she'd made a point of seeming as detached and disinterested as possible. However, it seemed like he wouldn't admit defeat until she spelled it out for him.

"Jesse, it's a no-go," she snapped bluntly.

"What do you mean?" he questioned, the disappointment in his voice betraying the fact he probably knew exactly what she was getting at.

"Don't take it personally but I have no interest in sleeping with you whatsoever," there. Now would he kindly leave her alone to solve the mystery of her disappearing best friend?

"Geez, no need to be like that about it..." he grumbled.

"Sorry, I'd heard you were always game for a bit of fooling around."

"From who?!" Kaitlyn questioned exasperatedly.

"Umm... I don't wanna get him into trouble," Jesse said, hastily backtracking.

"You know what, I don't care. I'm more worried about where Mercedes and that skunk-haired tag partner of yours have vanished off to," Kaitlyn blustered as the dread and heartache began to mount.

"Well, I'm sure you can hazard a pretty good guess," Jesse smirked.

"You mean they've gone..." Kaitlyn's voice began to crack.

"...Back to his room..." Jesse finished

"...Our room. Fuck knows where he expects me to go if me and you aren't gonna be getting up to anything."

"I'll fucking kill him!" Kaitlyn snapped suddenly, tears moistening her eyes, fully aware of how over-dramatic a reaction this would appear to be to anyone who didn't know her true feelings for Sasha, but not caring in the slightest.

"What are you talking about? She willingly accompanied him to his room to engage in consensual sex between adults," Jesse stated in bemusement.

"You don't understand..." Kaitlyn began to sob.

"...She's... No one just _fucks_ her like she's some cheap... She's special!"

"Listen..." Jesse placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, still utterly baffled as to why this news had caused her so much sorrow but nonetheless aware she was in need of some calming words.

"...I know you've got that whole big sister thing going on with her, but there's nothing to worry about. Matt might act a little sleazy but I've known him for years and he's a good guy. He won't force her into anything she's not cool with. She'll be safe with him, trust me."

Of course, it wasn't concern for Sasha's safety that was driving Kaitlyn to despair. It was the thought of that man, of any person but herself, with his hands all over her in the name of pure objectification, callously exploiting that naive, innocent mind, taking her exquisite beauty for granted. She had to stop him. She had to tell her everything, regardless of the consequences.

Without thinking, she grabbed Jesse by the scruff of the neck, her eyes wide with manic determination.

"What number is your room?" she barked.

"What the hell..." he spluttered aghast.

_"Tell me!"_

"2...274. What are you gonna do?"

"I... I don't know..." Kaitlyn was too desperate and wrought with emotion to formulate a plan of action.

"...I've just got to find her."

* * *

**Friday July 10th 2015, 0:12am**

"_Why_ didn't we talk more back in NXT?" Sasha questioned gleefully as they reached the door to Matt's room.

"Cos I thought you were a frigid, boring nerd and you thought I was an arrogant douche," Matt fired back with a grin.

"Well, you kind of are. But you've got reason to be full of yourself so I'll let you off," Sasha laughed, planting another deep kiss on his lips with her hands at his chest as they entered the room.

This was fine; kissing was safe and Matt was gorgeous, but conflict over what was sure to come next raged behind her eyes. This would be a landmark moment in her road to recovery from Punk, to developing confidence in her womanhood, and proving Kaitlyn and her wagging fingers wrong. Her body wanted it, of that there was no question, but her mind panicked ever more the closer they got to the bed.

She'd only been with two men in her life; Punk, of course, and her first boyfriend back in Boston. Letting someone who amounted to a casual acquaintance have such instant access to her jarred with everything she'd believed in and experienced up until now. But this was how it should be, right? She couldn't be scared forever. She'd feel much better about herself come the morning if she went through with it.

Trying to drown out these thoughts in a rush of primacy, she hurriedly unbuttoned his shirt and began to fondle his chiseled abdomen. About six feet tall, dark-haired, bearded and heavily tatooed, the similarities between him and Punk were uncomfortably obvious. But what was she to do? This was clearly her type. She placed kisses down his neck and along his shoulderblades, while her left hand gripped him at the hip and her right worked the flies and buckle of his trousers. So far so good; any urge to run and hide was buried well beneath the surface... but then he began to return the favour.

He twirled her around so her back was flush against his front, now clad only in his boxers. His hands enveloped her waist and he nibbled at her ear. Without being able to see him it was uncomfortably easy to imagine it was Punk doing this, and also distressingly difficult to predict what his next move would be. He slowly lowered the straps of her dress and it tumbled to the floor. Sasha instantly began to regret choosing such revealing underwear. But then, she had chosen them for this precise reason. What was she thinking? She felt naked already. But what was the problem with that? They were about to have sex after all. She needed to suppress this innate prudishness at once.

She tried to get into the swing of things, grinding her hips against him, which earnt an approving groan of masculine arousal. Then his hands slipped behind her, grabbing indulgent handfuls of her buttocks. She froze rigid. What had he done to show her that she could trust him to touch her like this? No, no she couldn't think like that. This was what a one night stand was. Pure, unthinking lust. She just had to accept it and learn to love it.

"Enjoying yourself?" she questioned in a seductive tone she barely recognised as herself.

"Yup. Can you blame me? That's one sweet, tight little ass you've got back there," he breathed voraciously in her ear, giving her backside a vigorous smack without warning. Sasha began to sweat, and not through arousal. She wasn't comfortable having her body discussed in those terms and handled so roughly by this man, and there was no way she could pretend to be.

He scooped her up and lifted her onto the bed. He hovered over her on all fours, and it was then she began to realise; how on Earth did she know he wasn't going to force himself on her? He'd given no indication there was a danger of that, but then he'd given no indication that there wasn't either. She didn't know him at all. And if she was in trouble, how could she possibly escape him? He was a full hundred pounds heavier and immensely strong.

"So, what are you into?" he questioned huskily, evidently past the point where any other thought could cross his mind.

"I... er..." she stammered. Her initial thought was that it was none of his business. But of course, that was the whole reason they were here.

"I bet you're into all sorts of kinky shit. It's always the quiet ones," he teased. She was in no mood to laugh. She wanted to cry. She wanted to curl up. But she was paralysed. How could she admit to him that this was all too much for her? Would he take no for an answer?

"Well how about I start by eating you out and we take it from there?" he asked. She hesitated, then nodded stiffly. She watched his shadow descend upon her crotch. This was the opposite to how that sight should make her feel, how it had made her feel with the other two. She was praying he'd somehow change his mind.

"Damn, you're so fucking wet already," he remarked as his gaze fell upon her soaked undergarments. He went to remove them. She shut her eyes. She wanted her mother. She wanted anyone who made her feel safe. But most of all, she wanted Kaitlyn.

"I can only imagine how tight that pussy must..."

"GET OFF ME!" finally it boiled over, reflexively and explosively. Her right leg rose up and met him square on the chin. He tumbled back off the bed.

"Ow! What the fuck?" he questioned incredulously.

"If you weren't into it you should have just said!"

"I'm sorry..." she panted, finally able to rationalise the situation now the terror had passed.

"...are you hurt?"

"Only my pride," he murmured, disgruntled.

"I... I can't be here... I-it's not you, I just..." she had no desire to explain herself. She had no desire to remain in this room a second longer. All she wanted was to be with the one who always understood. The one who was always there. The one who would protect her from all harm. Who loved her for who she was; not a free-spirited femme fatale; a quiet, sensitive, daft, nerdy girl who liked to spend her evenings watching anime and compiling K-pop playlists. She pulled her dress back on and picked up her bag, Matt's confused questions not registering with her. She repeated the name over and over. It comforted her somehow, tided her over until she was back in those warm, caring arms:

_"Celeste." _


	9. Chapter 9

**WARNING: Here be femslash. Never written it before so apologies if it's a bit of a mess :P**

**Friday July 10th 2015, 0:36am**

"Made you feel any better?," Kaitlyn asked with a gentle smile, laying the cup down on the table at Sasha's side of the bed. Her best friend nodded in gratitude, legs stretched out on the mattress and back rested against the pillows and headboard. It was times like this that she was extremely thankful that seemingly every hotel room in England came with its own tea-making facilities.

She'd been storming down the corridor, heart fit to burst, ready to physically prise Sasha and Matt apart if need be, when all of a sudden 115 pounds of frightened, confused and embarrassed girl had sprinted into her arms and not let go until they were safely back within the confines of their room. She refrained to say 'I told you so' when Sasha relayed the tale of her mortifying last hour; all that mattered was that she had not gone ahead with her plan. She was back at Kaitlyn's side, where she belonged, and the older woman was determined not to weasel out of coming clean yet again just because the immediate danger of being beaten to the punch had passed.

"Bored of picking up the pieces yet?" Sasha asked.

"Wondering when I'll finally learn how to deal with these things like a grown woman? When I'll find some 'lucky' guy so you can shoulder the burden?"

That was it. She couldn't hear those words of guilt and self-doubt any longer. She needed to let Sasha know, regardless of the consequences, that she was no hindrance whatsoever, and that she wasn't sharing her with anyone. Time for just about the deepest breath she had ever taken in her life.

"Mercedes, there will never, ever be a time when I won't be here for you. I want to be the first one you come to, always the one you can depend on, the one that reminds you what an incredible person you are. Anyone who considers you a burden doesn't deserve to have you in their care, and I could personally beat the shit out of the people who've made you feel that way about yourself," Kaitlyn rolled onto her knees, facing Sasha and looking right into those captivating brown eyes, watching them widen with awe, as if she was not worthy of this amount of devotion and compassion. From this point on it would be Kaitlyn's goal in life to convince her she was more worthy of this than anyone else on the planet.

"Why are you so nice to me?" Sasha questioned; thankful, disbelieving tears beginning to form.

"I don't do anything for you."

Oh how wrong she was. Kaitlyn slowly, gently brushed the pad of her thumb across the immaculate light-brown skin of the younger woman's face, drying her tears before they could even begin to fall.

"You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. You brighten up my days, you can charm me senseless with just a laugh or a smile. You think you're weak, you think you weigh me down, but it's just not true. All this temptation, all this darkness, and you remain pure. You've never done a thing to hurt anyone, regardless of what they've done to you. You stay true to who you are, regardless of whether it's the easiest option or not. That was what tonight was about. You're not a coward, a coward would have just gone with the flow and let him fuck you, then woke up in the morning hating herself cos it's still easier than taking a stand. And what's more, you've allowed me become the best I can possibly be. You've given me a purpose, a goal, and that's to be there for you at all costs. I love you."

Kaitlyn didn't need to elaborate, Sasha knew this was a different kind of 'I love you' to any that had previously been exchanged between the two of them. She'd idly contemplated it over the past few months, but always told herself she was imagining things and to stop thinking the whole world revolved around her. But Kaitlyn's whole world _did_ revolve around her, and this explained everything; why Kaitlyn was so patient with her, so dedicated, at the expense of having any kind of love life of her own. Only love, true love, defied logic like this; took people beyond the point of patience and exhaustion in the name of that special someone. But that special someone was her? Kaitlyn could do so much better.

"Y-you don't want me, Celeste. You think I'm difficult to deal with now, you just wait til I'm your girlfriend. Why do you think Phil and Mike did what they did?"

"Because they're not what you need. It's not all you fucking up. I've been trying and trying to make you see that ever since we first met. And now I know why I care so much. And I know how I can make you see. This doubt you have in yourself; I can make them all go away. I know it's out of nowhere, I know you've probably never thought this way about another girl in your life. I haven't either. It's only you. And it'll only ever be you."

Kaitlyn took both Sasha's hands in hers. She knew the look on the Bostonian's face. It meant she was trying to process everything she had just heard and arrive at a conclusion. Sasha didn't rush into anything, and Kaitlyn was more glad of that than ever in a situation like this. The answer she gave would be the one she would hold to. Kaitlyn just wished she would hurry up and get there.

Kaitlyn's eyes were just about the most comforting sight in Sasha's world. They always carried so much fondness and regard whenever they looked upon her. It told her that no matter what, this was one person who loved her unconditionally. They were beautiful eyes, brown with fascinating flecks of green. Everything about Kaitlyn was beautiful, she'd always said that. Any physical contact she made with the Texan was reassuring; the feel of her fingers knotted through Sasha's own, the knowledge that she could burrow into that torso any time she wanted and those sturdy, rippling arms would be more than willing to receive her.

Kaitlyn's body had just the right ratio of hard muscle to soft fat that made cuddling her one of the most rewarding experiences imaginable. She was more physically at ease with her housemate than either of the men who had been in her life. So to recap: this woman was kind, gorgeous, understood her better than anyone and she trusted her with her body wholeheartedly. The answer was rather obvious, really.

"I love you too, Celeste. Really love you," she said as the tears began to fall again. The second the words left he she knew they were the truth. Their bond was on another plain from any other connection in her life entirely. Way too strong to be merely friends. How had she not seen this before?

Kaitlyn grinned. How else did one react upon getting everything they wanted? Something that up until this moment she had considered as unrealistic a dream as sprouting wings. She didn't know what to do. She knew what she wanted to do, but so unexpected was all of this that she feared any instance of jumping the gun would cause Sasha to reconsider. So she just held her; held her as tightly as she possibly could; stroking her luscious golden brown tresses, drinking in her warmth, trying to make their bodies feel as one.

"You won't regret this, darling. I'll always protect you, I'll always listen, I'll always care, I'll always..." to her surprise, Sasha interrupted these gushing proclamations with a sudden hush of her lips and a raised finger. All of a sudden she was leaning in so their faces were almost touching. She looked almost... hungry.

"You did all those things for me as a friend. How about you show me what the next level means?" she said with a mischievous smirk. Kaitlyn had never been more turned on by a facial expression in her life. This was escalating at a quicker pace than she was anticipating, and that was anything but a bad thing.

Their lips met; whether it was through their many conversations about their preferences or just intuition, there was nothing the slightest bit awkward or ungainly about it; just a gentle, gradual exploration of each others' mouths and bodies, with Sasha's forearms pinned against Kaitlyn's chest as they sat side by side on the bed. Kaitlyn inevitably overpowered Sasha, both due to her superior strength and ravenous desire to take things further, and soon the smaller woman found herself flat on her back with the Texan perched over her, much as Matt had been a short while prior. Comparing the two in Sasha's mind was like night and day.

"We don't have to do anything, you know," Kaitlyn said gently. However much she wanted to enact every single one of her many fantasies involving the body beneath her, it would be defeating the purpose and betraying the promises she had just made if she did not give Sasha the chance to opt out.

"I know, but... I trust you, Celeste..." Sasha reached up and cupped Kaitlyn's smooth cheeks. It had been so long since she felt the touch of someone who loved her. It was a testament to how safe Kaitlyn made her feel that what should have been an extremely daunting an unnatural process held no fear for her whatsoever. She knew Kaitlyn would know just what to do to not only avoid causing her any pain or discomfort, but bring her the pleasure she was yearning for.

"...I need this... I need _you_." she breathed, watching Kaitlyn's eyes widen with both lust and adoration.

Kaitlyn didn't need a second invitation. She allowed Sasha to sit upright. They had changed into their bed-wear upon returning to the hotel room, so Kaitlyn barely had a second to fantasise before Sasha flung her nightshirt over her head and lay before her topless. The young girl looked at her almost apologetically. Kaitlyn knew why. Sasha had many hang-ups about her appearance, and her insistence that she did not 'measure up' in the chest department was among the most severe.

"They're perfect..." Kaitlyn smiled with gentle insistence.

"...just perfect."

"You're just saying that," Sasha mumbled bashfully.

"When do I ever 'just say' anything?" Kaitlyn countered, augmenting her words with a tentative grope at Sasha's perky chest, eliciting a glorious, high-pitched moan that was absolute music to her ears.

She met her with another tender kiss as Sasha lowered back down onto the mattress, Kaitlyn continuing to tease around her nipples with her thumb, making the occasion glancing contact with them to more desperate moaning. Once their lips had separated, Kaitlyn trailed her way down Sasha's neck with swift pecks, before pausing above the hardened bud of her right breast. She glanced up at Sasha's face. Things were about to get serious and she needed to check one more time if she was clear to go on.

Sasha's reply came in the form of one tremulous, desperate utterance.

"_Please_."

The woman she loved was begging to be pleasured by her. Kaitlyn almost felt like asking again and again, but she could not deny her a moment longer. For five minutes she gave Sasha's breasts the most glowing appraisal she could, lapping her tongue across the nipples until she reached the peaks, then sucking upon them in atypical rhythms so Sasha never knew quite when the next wave of pleasure would hit. It certainly seemed to have the desired effect.

Kaitlyn's own body was responding in the most demonstrative of ways to proceedings thus far. She felt that for both Sasha's and her own comfort, it was best she took the lead on the undressing front.

Sasha watched as Kaitlyn fell back onto her knees at the far end of the bed. She hoisted her tank top above her head, her large chest emerging from beneath, then lowered her black knickers down over her improbably muscular, sculpted legs. More often than not, setting sight on her best friend's various voluptuous assets in all their glory had made Sasha feel somewhat inadequate in the past. Now she just felt grateful; privileged that this curvaceous goddess of a woman had chosen little old her.

Now it was Kaitlyn's turn to feel self-conscious. It was unfamiliar territory for her to doubt the effect of her physique upon the opposite sex, at least if things had progressed as far as the bedroom. But this was not the opposite sex, nor someone who had exhibited any genuine attraction towards the female form. Maybe this was where she woke up and her dreams came tumbling down. Things had been going suspiciously well so far.

"You... you do think I'm hot, don't you?" Kaitlyn asked with words and a tone of voice that made her feel seventeen again.

"I mean, seeing you like this turns me on like you wouldn't believe, but..."

"Haven't I always said that if I was into girls you'd be exactly what I'd go for?" Sasha interrupted, hesitating due to the unfamiliar feeling of being the one doing the reassuring.

"Um, yeah I know... but that doesn't mean..." Kaitlyn blustered.

"You're strong, you're beautiful and you're sexy as fuck. Now get your fine self back over here," Sasha said heartily, then allowed herself a shrill giggle at the surreality of the situation.

Her confidence restored, Kaitlyn assumed the position astride Sasha's petite form once again. They locked eyes once again, both knowing what came next and regarding it with both immense excitement and trepidation. It was virgin territory for both, but if they were to share such an experience with anyone it would be each other. No words needed to be spoken to communicate this. They understood each other perfectly.

"I really do love you, Mercedes..." Kaitlyn reiterated anxiously. She needed to lay it bare one last time before she felt able to proceed.

"...I've wanted you so bad for so long. This isn't a one-off, this isn't an experiment... This is me showing you what I want the rest of our lives to be. Do you believe me?"

"Of course. I want it too. I'm not gonna lie and say it had occurred to me before now, but... it feels so right," Sasha breathed. Her heart continued to pound, but now her body's sense of urgency was born purely of anticipation rather than nerves. She wanted to be touched there. She wanted the love radiating between them at this moment to be made flesh.

Kaitlyn gave a relieved, almost victorious smile. She glanced over the entirety of Sasha's tight, petite frame one last time before zeroing in on her flat, wonderfully toned midriff, kissing her way down across her belly button before coming to a stop at the last area of flesh that remained covered. Sasha elevated her lower body off the mattress as Kaitlyn gently removed the translucent, lightly soaked white lace from around her waist.

Sasha closed her eyes in anticipation, worried that the visual would throw her into instinctive panic. She felt Kaitlyn's warm, damp tongue at her entrance, slowly breaching her folds as the ecstasy began to swell and swirl. The tongue slid its way along her walls with slow, deliberate intent. Then she reached the middle, and at that point Sasha lost the ability to feel anything else. Nothing but the blissful sensation as Kaitlyn began to suck and release. Now she felt brave enough to open her eyes. Kaitlyn's face pressed between her legs, a look of pure relish crossing it as she delved deeper and deeper. It only heightened the pleasure. She was so gorgeous, and so skilled. It had been so long. This felt incomparably phenomenal.

Kaitlyn couldn't pretend to be a little unnerved at first. The taste and the texture were somewhat bizarre, and not exactly pleasant, but knowing she was coming into contact with the very core of the woman she loved kept her going. That and the glorious moans of satisfaction Sasha began to let out. To know she was the one causing those wondrous, primal calls; this was the stuff of her deepest fantasies. After a while everything became one; the more sweet juices tumbled onto Kaitlyn's tongue, the more vigorous and intense the moans became. The end began to justify the means and Kaitlyn found herself well and truly getting off on the act as well. Then all of a sudden Sasha tensed up, her breathing becoming shallow.

"_Celeste!_" she exclaimed in near hysterics. Kaitlyn extricated herself from between the younger woman's thighs and knelt beside her.

"Are you OK, darling? I didn't do anything wrong, did I?" she questioned worriedly.

"No... nothing at all, I just... I'm close... v-very close. Hold me..." Sasha almost fell into Kaitlyn's middle as the tumbled back onto the mattress, this time with Kaitlyn underneath. The Texan draped one arm around her lover's back, and with the other reached back toward her groin, feverishly working between her folds.

Sasha couldn't ask for a better ending to it all; being held still as she began to wail, shudder and finally let go of a glorious rush of pure elation.

"I love you," she breathed one more time into Kaitlyn's ear as she fell limp atop her.

"I love you too, angel. So much," Kaitlyn replied, wrapping Sasha tightly in her arms, taking in her innocent afterglow, feeling the slickness of the younger girl's orgasm coating her right hand; tangible evidence that she'd fulfilled her in just the way she envisaged. All the pining, the heartache; it didn't matter anymore. Her pipe-dream had come true. It felt like anything was possible now.


End file.
